


never really mine

by thanatopis



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5390888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick is asked by Bruce, who is currently in space, to attend an event in his place. Jason just so happens to be there and crashes the ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~Can't stop, won't stop~

Richard Grayson had been smiling for hours, or at least that’s what it felt like, his cheeks protesting against the almost unnatural stretch of muscles in his face.

Dick had only been at the charity ball for impoverished children for about an hour now and already the persona of Richard Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s adopted airhead of a son was taking its toll. His cheeks were impossibly numb and his smile was as forced as a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit the slot, no matter how much you tried to pound it into place.

Richard played friendly and cordial with Gotham’s socialites, politicians, and the few normal working Joe’s that you could spot a mile away from how they shuffled around and nervously shifted, constantly brushing off bits of invisible lint from their suits or dresses, obviously out of their natural element. Dick could sympathize.

He had an unspoken obligation to speak with every face that waltzed into his line of sight, making his rounds around the lavishly decorated ballroom, not paying any individual too much attention, keeping it light and shallow.

Richard’s face flushed attractively when his laughter carried across the ballroom in response at something Valerie Richmond had said. He charmingly threw his head back, baring his neck, like the middle-aged woman’s backhanded jab at the Mayor’s disastrous toupee was funniest thing he had ever heard. Valerie was a nice enough woman, she had known him since he was a kid—awkward, shy, and dwarfed next to the cutting figure of Bruce Wayne who wore a suit and tie like a second skin. Valerie Richmond supported a lot of things Bruce did, having been fond of his parent’s humanitarian efforts years before their deaths. Bruce couldn’t stand her, but then again, the man couldn’t really stand anyone.

Richard apologized to everyone he spoke with at Bruce’s unsurprising absence.

‘Bruce is in China’, Richard had told them, only to change his mind a second later to France, then Brazil, as if he wasn’t quite sure himself where the playboy was, reinforcing the idea that Bruce Wayne was a vapid, frivolous man, too unpredictable to rely on. Their reactions varied from cackling laughs, to sympathetic winces on Richard’s behalf, to disapproving scoffs. Richard took it all in stride, champagne flute in his hand, hair slicked back in an imitation of his adopted father’s. Dick noticed the appreciative, lingering looks of his guests, how gazes roamed slowly over his body. It was anything he wasn’t used too.

Dick’s tried not to down the bubbly too quickly, but it was a challenge. Dick honestly didn’t know how Bruce did this day in and day out. How he managed not to bash his head into the nearest hard surface was a mystery. It was an understatement how mentally exhausting it was, keeping up appearances, pretending to be someone he most definitely was not.

Richard Grayson didn’t have as much of a notorious reputation like Bruce Wayne, but the whole of Gotham considered Richard to be quite the dimwitted dingbat—a pretty face with not much going on upstairs, though with all that money, and those sinful good looks, Richard’s overall intelligence hardly seemed to matter to the masses.

Dick played up the beliefs at every opportunity he could, purposely backtracking out of conversations that had the beginnings of serious undertones, switching them out for talk of gossip, television, or sports. Dick actively tried to stay out of the limelight as much as he could, unlike Bruce who sought the attention out, but every once and awhile, Dick was forced back into it.

_Thanks Bruce..._

The man in question was somewhere in space, fighting along with the Justice League to stop an alien overlord that thought it was his birth right to rule a good chunk of the universe.

Or something like that. Bruce had been real short with his words, and Dick had been distracted by the fact Bruce had just told him he would need to host a charity ball he'd planned to attend before the intergalactic shit hit the fan.

Dick downed the rest of his champagne with a heavy gulp, sighing softly under his breath as he allowed himself a small moment to relax his shoulders from their continuous stiff, up straight posture. It wasn’t that he slouched on a regular basis or anything, it was just that when stepping into the human suit that was Gotham’s Richard Grayson, Dick had to seem a million times more than what he was. It was a daunting task, one that left his back and shoulders aching afterwards.

_Only two more hours to go. God, knows it’s going to take all of my control and then some to keep from running out of here when it’s done._

Dick perked as he instinctively felt a presence at his back. The energy surrounding him buzzed and it was a sensation Dick was intimately familiar with, alerting him who it was before the person even spoke.

“Well would you look at that; you clean up quite nicely Grayson,” Jason’s voice lazily drawled, the end of his words curling with a hint of barely contained cockiness that Dick shouldn’t have found attractive, but did anyways.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without the shaggy, un-brushed, grease pit you call your hair. Daddy-bat groomed you well.”

The warm puff of breath that caressed against the sensitive skin of Dick’s ear made shivers race up and down his spine. He hated how telling the response was, how Jason would probably be able to see it.

Dick’s heart raced, racketing wildly in that predictable way that made him want to throw something against a wall and watch it shatter. It wasn’t even because of the close proximity Jason was determined test the limits of in such a public place—not really—all of Gotham’s socialites liked to get up close and personal with Richard, and he had stopped minding it after a while. It was Jason’s _voice_ that had Dick adjusting at his collar, subtly loosening his tie because suddenly he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.

Jason was all familiar, lazy drawls, deep, resinous baritones, and hints of the Gotham streets that were embedded into him so deep. No amount of Bruce taking Jason in and introducing the boy to the finer things in life would truly take Gotham out of the kid turned man.

Jason _belonged_ to this city. The _good_ and the _bad_ parts.

Dick had to remember that sometimes.

Jason’s voice was low enough, but even so, the striking figure the both of them made understandably drawled attention. Dick found Valarie’s bright blue eyes on them from across the ballroom, penciled eyebrows high on her forehead, and her whole body alight with interest, not even _trying_ to hide it for subtly sake. Dick’s own baby blue’s met hers for a quick second, giving her a small, friendly smile and a nod before dismissing her completely.

No one appreciated voyeurs.

_At least be subtle about it like everyone else in the room Val, sheesh._

A perfectly arched brow rose in question as Dick pivoted slowly on his heel. He easily ignored Jason’s previous comments about his hair. It wasn’t a grease pit and he brushed it…most of the time when he could be bothered.

“Jason,” Dick greeted. A decent enough ‘hello’, though it weighed a little on the cool side.

Dick tilted his head in question, “Answer me this—what _exactly_  do you think you're doing here? You definitely _do not_ have an invitation.” Clenching his teeth, Dick tried to calm his rising fustration.

What Jason was doing was incredibly reckless, and it was crossing lines and blurring barriers. Dick felt uneasy at the prospect of dealing with Jason in this kind of environment, where appearance was everything and the façade was key. It felt like a disaster waiting to happen.

When Dick’s eyes finally fell on Jason and took the other man in, what he saw just about took his breath away.

Dick had never seen his not-brother look so…put together. His hair was combed and neatly parted towards the side, brushed and quaffed like some vintage 1950’s model, and his three-piece suit—Dick didn’t even know Jason _owned_ a suit—fit him like how Bruce’s suits did. He was almost jealous with how at ease and confident Jason looked in it. His broad shoulders appeared even more immense and the bow tie at his neck made him look like an impossible mix of both handsome and cute.

It was…distracting.

Dick could feel himself gaping, horrifyingly enough. His gaze was all over Jason’s body, not knowing where to land or look first. Dick had barely enough sense to keep himself from drooling at the sight, because _Jesus_ —

Jason looked down at him, blue eyes with a generous mix of green were bright and dancing in the soft florescent light. The cocky smirk Jason gave Dick a second later only succeeded at making Dick’s heart lurch.

“You like, Dickie?”

Dick blinked himself back into his previous leisure stance—a ‘billionaire’s slouch’ as Dick called it, not really a slouch, but he liked the clever ring of it on his tongue. It was inspired by the very Bruce Wayne himself, put into practice with Dick’s own little adjustments sprinkled in here and there.

Richard wasn’t much of a playboy like his dear old dad, but it wasn’t uncommon to see him chatting up various good-looking individuals, male and female both. Jason provided the perfect shield at keeping Gotham’s hungry and attention starved off his back for the rest of the night, but that was only if Jason stayed long enough.

Besides, a part of Dick secretly thought, it had been so long since he had actually _seen_ Jason—since he had been able to touch or kiss him. It had been about a month since Jason up and left Gotham with Roy in tow to do whatever they did with their ‘superhero-for-hire’ shtick. Dick tried not to be too bitter about it, how his ex-best friend, whom he missed spending time with, and Jason who was… _Jason_ spent a good amount of time together now.

Jason noticed the change in Dick’s demeanor and snorted softly, muttering under his breath, “Oh yeah, I forgot you have to be the pretty, but _very_ dumb Richie Grayson.” Jason said, stepping up closer to Dick and ushering his next words by Dick’s ear, “Not that much of a change from the original if I do say so myself.”

Dick hummed low, brows slightly furrowing at the dig to his intelligence as he angled his head closer. To anyone else it looked extremely intimate, but that was just a clever cover for the physical blows that would never come because of the watchful company.

Dick smiled sticky sweet, “Not gonna ask again Jason. What are you doing here?”

Jason chuckled, “You know me, thought I’d crash a ball, get Cinderella to dance with me before she goes home with prince charming, eat some fancy food, pretend like I don’t hate everyone in this room, and make sure you’re not bored out of your mind.”

Jason leaned back slowly, keeping eye contact with Dick as he slid his hands into his pants pockets. He smelled really good, like _really good_ , and Dick tried not to follow Jason’s retreat, resisting the urge to crash into him and bury his head into the crook of Jason’s neck.

Dick smiled and it was closed lipped, tight around the edges, “So considerate.”

He sighed a relieved breath when an attendant with a platter of shining champagne glasses strolled past. Before Dick could grab the base of one of the glass stems, Jason plucked two smoothly from the tray and handed him one with a charming smile that seemed incredibly out of place. Dick had an uneasy feeling that Jason was trying to fuck with him…and he was doing a damn good job of it too. It was weird seeing Jason actually being polite, or at least a façade of it.

“That’s me. _Considerate_.”

Dick rolled his eyes without much exaggeration and took a much needed sip.

Both men lapsed into a heavy, drawn out silence as they both regarded their glasses.

The tension between them felt like it was growing and taking up the whole room, making Dick unable to breathe comfortably. Dick knew people were watching them, but he didn’t dare look at their curious stares. Jason on the other hand seemed blissfully unaware of all the things going on around them, like they weren’t actually in the middle of a ballroom with 250-something people in attendance, all of them looking for the next gossip topic for the next time they gathered again.

“Hey—”

“Jason—”

They both looked at each other then, surprise etched on both of their faces before shifting gazes away again, and chuckling softly at how… _normal_ they were being.

“Go ahead,” Dick said, gesturing for Jason to continue.

Jason shifted on his feet, purposely avoiding Dick’s eyes as he said, “You’re mad at me.”

Dick blinked, “What?”

Jason’s mouth tightened, “You’re mad at me,” He repeated, anger clipping his words.

“Don’t think I’ve done anything recently to earn the silent treatment for a week, but I’ll bite. What did I do that has you so pissed?”

Dick was truly confused. Yeah, he was upset and kind of jealous that Jason took off for so long with Roy, but he wasn’t angry—wasn’t mad enough to stop talking to him, let alone for a _week_.

Dick’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Jason, what the hell are you talking about? The silent treatment? You just got back from that job in Moscow, didn’t you?” Dick asked uncertainly, suddenly regretting acquiring his information on Jason and Roy by word of mouth and what he heard whispered around dark alleys.

Jason watched him closely, head tilting in contemplation, “No Dickie, I’ve been back since Wednesday.”

Dick gaped, “Oh, I-I didn’t know. God, I thought…”

Jason snorted sardonically, rolling his eyes exasperated, “Yeah, _obviously_ you didn’t.”

Grabbing roughly at his sleeve, Dick hurriedly whispered, “I’m not mad at you—well at least I _wasn’t_ until you showed up here.” He brought Jason in closer, their faces inches apart. “You really _shouldn’t_ be here, and you _know_ you shouldn’t be here. People are going to wonder who you are and how you know me, and it will get back to Bruce.”

Jason just shrugged, a movement that seemed to shout, ‘fuck it and fuck you.’

“I don’t think it’s going to be hard convincing people how we _know_ each other, _Richie_.” Jason angled closer, sliding the tip of his nose along the bridge of Dick’s, lips right above his and fanning his hot breath over them. Jason’s voice was low, but it picked up loud enough for those eavesdropping to catch the end of Richard Grayson’s beloved nickname.

An arm, corded with muscle, wrapped itself boldly around Dick’s waist, bringing him into Jason’s broad chest with a tug. The flat of Jason’s hand was warm and simply impossible to ignore pressed up so intimately against the small of his back, and Dick arched into it before he even knew what he was doing.

A camera flashed, and Dick tried not to wince. Jason even smiled for the next one.

Dick shook his head in utter disbelief, “God, I’m going to _beat_ you when this is over. This is such a _bad_ idea.”

Jason chuckled, “The best ones always are.”

When Jason finally kissed him, there was a chorus of quite gasps before the shutters of cameras flashed into a frenzy. No doubt their kiss would be all over the local Gotham news, in the tabloids, and maybe even in the newspaper. Bruce was going to have his head when he came back.

The thought however didn’t stop Dick from kissing Jason back, working his hands into his hair as they shared a soft, exploratory meeting of lips after so long apart.

Dick kissed _‘I missed you’_ with a gentle touch of his tongue against Jason’s and Jason answered back by cupping his face and meeting him just as soft in the middle. They broke apart after a moment, breathing heavily as they realized yet again, that they had an audience and they’d given them enough of a show.

“I think they’ll be talking about this for a while, don’t you think?” Jason sounded smug. Dick still hadn’t opened his eyes, he was still reeling from that kiss and how it made his skin come alive at a molecular level. He bit softly at his lip when he felt ready to open them, regarding Jason from under the fall of his lashes.

“I don’t care what they think,” Dick said, voice husky and Jason’s eyes smoldered. “I just want you to take me home. I want—”

Jason had his hand in a firm grip before he could even finish his sentence. He dragged Dick towards the nearest exit, uncaring about who or what was in his way. Wisely, people parted for his barreling figure and Dick was too stunned, too impossibly turned on to stop it.

With a giddy anticipation, Dick gripped Jason’s hand tighter and picked up his lagging pace as Jason led the way.

* * *

 

Dick’s feet padded loud enough on the kitchen tile for Jason to know he was coming up behind him. It was a behavior he had adopted after he learned the hard way that, intentionally or not, sneaking up on Jason Todd was never a good idea.

The smell of bacon and eggs had woken Dick, making his stomach growl, because last night had been… _eventful_ and Jason hadn’t allowed Dick to leave the bed long enough to grab something to eat.

He hummed contently as his arms wrapped around Jason’s chest, pressing his palms flat against his pectorals and plastering himself to Jason’s back. Dick’s cheek reached his shoulder and the warmth of Jason’s skin felt so nice against Dick’s face, he pressed a lingering, tender kiss against one of Jason’s many scars, pleased when he felt the accompanying shiver.

“Morning to you too.” Jason groggily said, leaning back into Dick’s embrace.

Dick smiled and snuggled into him, “You’re making breakfast Jay?”

Jason grunted an affirmative, flipping a bacon strip and somehow managing not to burn himself with the popping oil in the process.

“Thought it was the least I could do. Making it up to you for riding you hard and then putting you away wet.” The smirk in Jason’s voice was almost a tangible thing, it made Dick flush at the reminder at how they hadn’t bothered with condoms last night in the hurry of things. It wasn’t like they were doing this with anyone else—not that they acknowledged that bit of information with each other however.

Dick sighed as he buried his head into the space of Jason’s shoulder blades and nuzzled into him with his nose. Jason smelled like his body wash and a hint of smoke.

“It’s not like I didn’t want it…”

Jason snorted, shutting off the burner as he moved to fetch two plates out of the cupboards, “Oh, I know. I just like rubbing it in.”

Dick chuckled as smacked Jason’s arm halfheartedly, following the stretch of his body wherever he moved.

“Jerk.”

He felt Jason’s answering laugh more than he heard it and Dick’s heart did a weird thing, something he didn’t try to analyze so early in the morning or really ever, instead he just squeezed Jason to him harder, like he wanted to sink into his very body and never leave.

Jason grunted, “Squeezing me a bit too tight there, you boa constrictor.”

Dick muttered an apology into Jason’s back that didn’t sound sorry at all, and loosened his grip just enough.

“So daddy-bat called,” Jason began rather stoically, clearing his throat. “And I might have answered on your behalf…”

Dick stiffened, his head slowly rising. He could feel himself pale, “Please tell me you didn’t.”

Jason shrugged, and Dick was thankful he couldn’t see Jason’s face. “Thought I’d get it out of the way, you know. It’s not like he didn’t have an _idea_ about it, Dick.”

Dick released him as if he’d gotten burned, “What the _hell_ Jason!”

The spatula smacked harshly against the counter where Jason threw it. He rounded on Dick quickly, eyes angry, accusing, and a brilliant bright green.

“See _this_ is the shit I didn’t want to deal with. You freaking the fuck out—you _always_ freak out when it involves him because you give so much of a damn and you shouldn’t. He _knows_ how much you care about what he thinks, Dick and he takes advantage of it _every single time_!”

Dick stared at Jason, eyes wide with shock, but it still didn’t make what Jason did acceptable.

“So what? You answer my phone and tell Bruce—what? ‘Me and Dick are having sex now, get the fuck over it?’”

Jason’s nostrils flared as he shifted closer, boxing Dick in. He looked like he wanted to hit him.

“Yes, _Dick_. That and more. You’re not some kid wearing pixie boots anymore, you’re an adult, free to make your own goddamn decisions and he has no say in what—or _who_ —you do.”

Closing his eyes, Dick’s fingers ran through his hair as if trying to sooth back the anger that was bubbling up inside him. He didn’t want to think about the conversation Jason had had with Bruce on his behalf, didn’t want to contemplate how disappointed Bruce would be in him when he confronted the other man about his lapse in judgment last night.

 _God_ , then how would he even explain all the other nights where there weren’t cameras or people watching them? Dick had no excuses for it. None of it.

Suddenly, Dick was exhausted.

“Look, I get what you tried to do, I really do, but please Jason just— _don’t_.”

Jason sneered at him and flew away from his body like he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Dick anymore. His legs followed Jason out of the kitchen before he even knew what he was doing, unable to voice his thoughts as he watched Jason tug on a t-shirt and a spare pair of jeans of his that Dick kept in a separate drawer when Jason left his things.

“You don’t have to go,” Dick said weakly, feeling impossibly high walls building between the both of them. Dick already missed him and Jason was only a few feet away, but already he felt so much further.

Jason snorted and it was an ugly, scornful sound. He pushed his feet angrily into the loafers he’d worn last night. The casual/formal assemble was off but they were the only shoes he had in Dick’s apartment.

“No, I think I’ve had about enough of you.”

“Jason—”

Jason’s mouth pinched in a tight line, “Shut up Dick, just shut the fuck up before I punch you or something.”

Dick almost opened his mouth to apologize, but thought better of it. It would only piss Jason off more and when the younger man made up his mind, there was no changing it. So he watched Jason gather his things quietly, wondering how long they’d keep away from each other this time.

He pondered why they kept doing this, why they couldn’t just stay away—god knows, it would’ve been so much wiser if they did.

“Between him or me, it’s always going to be him isn’t it? He could tell you to go jump off a goddamn bridge and you’d go right ahead and fucking do it just to make him happy, wouldn’t you?” Jason spat viciously. He looked at Dick with eyes that screamed betrayal, perched on the window sill, his left leg already out on the fire-escape.

Dick didn’t say anything. He didn’t dare.

Jason’s words had hit a little too close to home and by Jason’s scoff at his reaction, Jason could tell his jab stabbed right where it needed to.

Jason left without another word, not sparing Dick a backward glance.

He just stood there, feeling impossibly cool and hollow. An overwhelming, almost uncomfortable, amount of emotions whirled wildly inside him because Jason was never simple, never easy, and he always left Dick feeling uprooted every time they parted ways.

He sighed heavily, running his hands tiredly over his face and rubbing over his eyes until he saw various colors in the darkness. Dick dragged his feet over towards his phone on the kitchen table, and picked it up with hesitant fingers.

With the phone to his ear, he listened to the dial tone as he purposely ignored the eggs and bacon. Dick wasn’t hungry anymore.

The phone picked up and Batman’s gravely grunt greeted him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick finally confronts the bat and has a realization.

The flutter of bat wings, the high pitched squeaks, and the damp, cool humidness of being in an underground cave were the kinds of strange things Dick had long grown accustomed to. As always, being in the Batcave again gave Dick feelings of childhood nostalgia, the incredibly bittersweet kind.

It had been a simpler time during his start as Robin, a time where making Bruce laugh had a been a fairly easy feat to accomplish. All Dick had to do back then was be his cheeky little charming self and the corner of Bruce’s mouth would unmistakably rise. Back then Bruce would cover up his laughter with a grunt or a half aborted choking sound that told Dick he’d been successful in breaking Batman’s stoic, ‘no laughter, only justice’ rule.

Laughter had made Bruce seem so much younger and lighter. It cleared the deep, dark shadows he intentionally clouded and hid himself in.

Bruce Wayne was made of thin worry lines and furrowed wrinkles from frowning all the time, and Dick always managed to forget how ‘not-old’ his guardian actually was. Bruce had been twenty-two and Dick nine when he started living at the manner, feeling out of place in the mausoleum-like mansion and finding comfort hanging off chandeliers and other hazardous high places, much to Alfred’s worried ire. He had startled the older man enough times, taking a childish pride in catching him unawares whenever he was taking dinner or breakfast to Bruce’s room.

Dick snickered quietly to himself at the memory. The startled jerk of Alfred’s shoulders as Dick called out to him, hanging upside down and waving enthusiastically, as he beamed the brightest smile he could. The reaction always made the scolding afterwards worth it.

Fast forward with the arrival of a couple more parentless kids and heartbreaks piled on top of the already existing ones, and Bruce didn’t really laugh anymore. Dick had stopped trying to make him. It seemed out of fashion.

Their relationship had changed after Dick’s departure as Robin and remained strained for some time, though the tension between them paled in comparison to whatever Bruce and Jason had going on now. You couldn’t even say ‘Bruce’ anymore without Jason getting agitated, as if the simple name offended every one of his sensibilities, and _then_ some.

The thought of Jason made Dick’s shoulders slump and his pace slow.

Jason was always a sore subject with him—an ache that only ever hurt if prodded, and Dick was a self-admitted masochist when it came to thinking about him.

Reflecting, Dick still didn’t believe he had done anything wrong the morning of their big blowout. He had understood where Jason had been coming from, he really did, but even so…he had no right to fling that kind of news on Bruce the way he did. Knowing Jason, he probably hadn’t done it delicately either—the cruder the language the better—that was Jason’s rule of thumb.

The thought made Dick’s carefree smile flicker slightly as he strolled through the Batcave with an ease he didn’t quite feel. Dick’s eyes landed on familiar broad shoulders and the stark, imposing back of one Bruce Wayne and cleared his throat awkwardly, announcing his arrival as he stood a few paces back.

He’d been punched by Bruce before over matters that, thinking back on it now, had been incredibly insignificant compared to the offence this time. Dick felt like a punch was something he probably deserved, though that didn’t mean he’d make it easy for Bruce to do it.

Bruce had returned from space two days ago and Dick figured it was about time to face the music. Over the phone they hadn’t talked about Jason and Dick’s relationship at all, Bruce only asked for updates on Gotham and how each of his individual bats were doing. Dick was intentionally brief with Jason’s update, afraid that something in his voice would give him away even more than Jason already had.

Bruce seemed thankful, something in his tone sounding relieved that Dick hadn’t brought the topic up. He hadn’t acknowledged Dick’s short brief on Jason and continued on with mission updates like everything was normal. Dick knew Bruce had no desire to talk about it either, not ready to open that can of worms or at least mentally preparing himself for when he _had_ too.

Having two kids you viewed as your own children and then learning that they were sleeping together had to be nightmarish for anyone, but it had to be _especially_ horrifying and traumatic for Bruce, who viewed family in such a sacred way.

It wasn’t like Jason and Dick had been close during the younger boy’s Robin run. Dick had purposely avoided Bruce back then, childishly bitter and upset that Bruce had replaced him and given his name to some kid he’d randomly found on the street. His appearances at the manner had been few and far between. Leading the Titans and being in a relationship with an alien space princess had distracted him for a time from the problems originating at home.

They’d teamed up maybe once or twice whenever Dick strolled back into town, using excuses that had nothing to do with the real reason of why he’d come back to Gotham. He simply missed home—missed the dreary skies and the eerie fog that drew over Gotham like a blanket on cold, rainy nights. God knew why he did—Gotham compared to Star City or Metropolis was an armpit of a city, but there was no other place like it. Gotham was dangerous and beautiful because of it, the first lady to ever keep him coming back for more, and he would _always_ come back.

Dick and Jason argued most of the time during their forced team ups. Dick was pretty sure it was Bruce’s way of making them bond, dinner and awkward family board games be damned.

They constantly fought and butted heads over which approaches to take when it came to taking down the baddies, but by the end of each patrol, with their muscles sore and minds exhausted, they managed to grudge up a reluctant fondness for one another. They denied it at every turn of course, but Dick knew Jason had started warming up to him by how his glares seemed to take extra work and his insults lacked their regular sting.

Everything had been alright for a while, Dick had even started talking to Bruce regularly again, the unjustified anger in him subsiding bit by bit.

And then Jason had died and everything had fallen apart like a violent un-mending of seams.

With the addition of Tim and some years to heal, life had slowly started to re-sow itself. Dick didn’t know if the universe had a personal grudge against the lot of them, but right when things had started to finally settle down somewhat, Jason had come back in a way that shook the very ground beneath their feet.

Jason didn’t come back the same fifteen-year-old, scraggly kid Dick had fondly remembered. Jason was taller, bigger, and expertly trained to kill and Dick found himself evenly, if not more matched. Jason’s strength and brute force was a clear contrast to Dick’s flexibility and speed, and their fights mostly ended in stalemates with the both of them cut up and breathing heavily, sprawled out on the ground all over each other, and yelling and hissing.

For one reason or another, Dick started to notice that the only person he tumbled and rolled around with in the dirt was Jason. They always found ways to touch each other that didn’t involve kicks or punches. They would get petty after a while, their tempers flaring, and Jason and Dick would forget about their training, settling for bites, hair grabs, and holds that started to seem a whole lot less innocent when Dick tried bucking Jason off of him and Jason ground back.

Dick still didn’t know who kissed who first.

It’d been raining and all Dick could remember was how their breaths met in a cloud of vapor, eyes catching in a moment of confusion and perplexity before they surged together, a kiss that met like a sucker punch, splitting Dick’s bottom lip. Despite how wrong it was—how _utterly_ stupid—once they started they couldn’t seem to stop. Dick tried to pull back, gasping when Jason ground against him and kissed hotly down his neck, clutching at Dick like he needed him to function.

_‘Jay—Jay—we can’t—I need to—I need…’_

_‘Stop talking and just fucking kiss me, you fuck.’_

Dick couldn’t understand why it had felt so good, especially when he considered just who it was he was kissing. The fact that it was Jason didn’t bother him as much as it should’ve—what disturbed him was the fact he was getting hard and hot for a man that killed and had no problem doing so. It went against everything Dick believed in and yet, there he’d been, kissing him and grabbing at him and _wanting_ him.

Wanting him so fucking much that it was hard to breathe.

His feelings for Jason were frustrating and confusing, and something Dick would feel conflicted about for years to come whenever him and Jason risked playing this particular game of cat and mouse.

Dick wringed his fingers behind his back as he waited for Bruce to do something—yell at him, hit him, whatever—anything was better than the heavy silence of his disapproval.

Bruce didn’t acknowledge him for a moment, chin in his hand as he watched something on one of the monitors before he turned in his chair and addressed Dick with a stoically calm expression, hands folding elegantly in his lap.

“The reporters had a field-day with the show you two put on during the event. An event, let me remind you, that was for _impoverished children_.”

Dick opened his mouth to explain and apologize, but Bruce gave him a sharp look that dared him to interrupt. Dick found it hypocritical, Bruce’s tone. He’d done _so much_ worse as Brucie Wayne during the same kinds of charity events, Dick would know, he’d been at some. But then again, Bruce wasn’t mad about the kiss, only who he had shared it with.

“I think you know where this is going, so let me just cut straight to the point—what the ever-loving fuck were you _on_ that made you think that _this_ was a good idea?” Bruce’s fingers were quick over the glowing touch screen keyboard, bringing up a high-res image that made Dick flush all the way up to his ears.

It was odd, seeing Jason and himself from a voyeur’s point of view. They didn’t look anything like themselves, dressed to the nine’s, wrapped so intimately around each other, like they’d been doing it for years…

Dick winced. He couldn’t help but admit that despite his recklessness that night, the picture was a truly stunning one. The photo made it seem like the men on the screen were two pieces of the same puzzle that fit perfectly against one another, the dim amber lights tinted their skin with a warm, inviting glow, and to anyone else, it might have looked like two people who were incredibly in—

Bruce looked at him accusingly, “Imagine my surprise, turning on the news and seeing my son with my other son, _kissing_.”

Dick looked everywhere other than Bruce’s eyes, scratching at the back of his neck as he suddenly found the floor of the cave utterly fascinating. Words failed him.

“Bruce, I—”

“I thought you knew better.”

 _That_ cut into him.

Dick’s head shot up, eyes wide and glassy. He didn’t know which ‘better’ Bruce was talking about, the PDA or Jason, maybe both, either way, it was horrifying all the same. Despite how much he told himself he didn’t care what Bruce thought, the weight of his disapproval in any situation was hard thing to shake off.

He gestured uselessly, “Bruce, me and Jason…” Dick paused. He didn’t quite know what to say after that.

Him and Jason…

What where they exactly?

Dick honestly didn’t know himself how to categorize what he had with Jason, if he even _had_ anything. What the hell would he even tell Bruce? How long it had been going on under his nose? How he _intimately_ knew what Jason looked like when he was about to come? That Jason, despite what everyone else thought, was a goddamn cuddiler?

What was he supposed to say?

He wasn’t ready to hear Bruce tell him how disgusting and wrong he was for sleeping with his brother, even though Jason had never really felt like one to him.

Unlike his relationships with Tim and Damian, Jason, as far as he was concerned, was his brother in name only and Dick was ready to argue that if Bruce had any complaints. The prospect however, was a nerve-racking one and he could feel his hands shaking a bit at his sides.

Bruce sighed, and Dick felt it through his entire body. It sounded incredibly tired and overwhelmed.

“I had an idea,” Bruce began as he turned back around. He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and Dick waited anxiously for him to continue. “I knew something was going on between the both of you, but I wasn’t sure exactly what. I had my suspicions, but I didn’t think…”

Dick hands clenched at his sides, holding his breath until it felt like he was going to faint.

“I’m not going to pretend that I approve or that I understand it, but you’re both adults, both too stubborn and headstrong to listen to what I have to say, so I will not interfere with whatever… _this_ is.”

His held breath rushed out of him in a whoosh, both surprised and shocked. Dick had expected far worse. He had walked into the Batcave thinking Bruce would hit him, maybe call him an incestuous creep, but Bruce was being unexpectedly reasonable and leveled headed about a pretty big revelation sprung on him so suddenly. Dick wondered if it was because Bruce had been in space when it happened, simply unable to jet back to Gotham to knock heads together, giving him enough time to cool down and think the situation through.

Bruce rose then, slow and purposeful with a predator-like grace that had always awed and somewhat terrified Dick as a child. His feet thumped solidly on the cave floor as he made his way over towards Dick and stopped at his shoulder.

Dick gulped and looked at him in the eye for the first time since he’d arrived. He had always been intimidated by how intense Bruce’s blue eyes where, they were so light, almost transparent.

“But remember, Jason’s idea of justice goes against our own and therefore, he is someone we must stop, like we do all criminals who play judge, jury, and executioner.” Bruce sounded sad about that fact and it made Dick feel a tad better.

“You have a conflict of interest now and I expect you to abide by the same rules as you would anyone else...” Bruce trailed off, watching him with thoughtful eyes, considering, no doubt, how them sleeping together affected matters now. Dick was tempted to bring up Selina, but it seemed in bad taste and Bruce wasn’t being a dick, so he saw no need. Besides, Selina, as far as he knew, didn’t kill people so the point was moot.

Dick smiled warily, shrugging his shoulders weakly, “Don’t we all when it comes to him?”

Bruce slid his hands into his pockets and nodded his head once stiffly. He looked down solemnly at his penny loafers before he walked passed Dick towards the stairs with a tired sigh. He’d been dismissed it seemed and Dick was thankful. The cave was stifling.

“I can’t anticipate how everyone else will react to the news. Prepare yourself, I do not imagine everyone will be as understanding.”

Dick nodded and watched Bruce thoughtfully as he ascended the stairs. Alfred was perched at the top, waiting for him with steaming cup of hot tea. He acknowledged Dick with a curt, friendly nod and Dick managed to give a weak smile. Alfred most definitely had heard everything. Dick didn’t know why he was so embarrassed by that, but he was.

“Thank you, Bruce.” Dick said quietly, waiting a moment before he took another exit out of the cave and grabbed his phone out of his back pocket.

He scrolled through his contacts until Jason’s name came up. A picture he’d taken one morning of Jason reading peacefully out on his shitty balcony was Dick’s picture for him on his phone.

In the picture Jason’s hair was sleep mused, the sun cutting through it and showing the various array of colors that made up his luscious black hair. He was shirtless, displaying the bruises and bite marks Dick had given him the night before. Jason hadn’t seen him take it, probably would’ve made him delete it if he had because it went against the cutthroat persona that was the Red Hood, but seeing it now only made Dick ache.

 _We need to talk_ , _preferably face to face_ , Dick typed out, waiting for a message that might or might not come.

He was surprised when a reply came back not even a second later.

_Yours or mine?_

Dick barked a laugh at their predictability, realizing just how fucked they actually were. Like in true fashion, the could never stay away from each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Dick's confrontation. Important things are brought to light.

Dick entered the bedroom window of his apartment clutching loosely at his side. Blood, sweat, and grime slimily coated his person, making Dick feel like scuzz floating around in a storm drain. However, it would never beat the time he’d accidently slipped into the shallows of the Harbor during a drug bust at the docks, having to patrol with junk stuck in his pixie boots, and smelling like a mix of stale puddle water along with motor oil for the rest of the night.

The only thing Dick wanted to do now was peel off the Nightwing suit and drag his bruised butt into a nice steaming hot shower to ease his aches, but the gash cutting diagonally at his side demanded his attention first and foremost.

Dick winced as he walked carefully into his kitchen, trying to avoid having blood splatters stain his carpet.

He felt something…slightly _off_ as he padded soundlessly on the laminated kitchen floor. He didn’t notice it right away, but the bowls that had been piling up inside his sink since Monday were now miraculously gone. In all actuality, his kitchen seemed cleaner as a whole, there was even a pleasant pine smell that Dick could vaguely pick up with his nose.

It very vaguely rang as strange to Dick, but he didn’t pay it too much mind, rather preoccupied with the desperate want and need of a shower, so it didn’t dawn on him right away that he most certainly hadn’t cleaned his apartment this week.

Dragging open one of the drawers, Dick pulled out Alfred’s personally crafted first aid kit, supplied with things Alfred deemed important and necessary, since he’d always been the one to bandage up their wounds. He took out a few medical antiseptic wipes, a needle and some dissolvable thread just in case the cut needed sowing. It was a skill Dick had made himself learn after he left the Manor, because late night trips to his childhood home whenever he got injured or hurt weren’t realistic or convenient in the slightest.

Dick hissed through his teeth as he twisted his torso around gradually, hoping not to pull or agitate as he gauged and assessed the cut running up along his side, towards his back. It stung, but the pain wasn’t too unbearable as he poked and prodded, chastising himself all the while for letting a guy with a knife get close enough to do this to him.

In his head, he could practically hear Bruce scolding him in low tones.

“Really nice Grayson,” Dick muttered to himself, shaking his head in incredulity at his lack of foresight. He wasn’t going to need stitches thankfully, but bandaging was definitely going to be a must. He sighed just a little harder, feeling his breath rush out of him in a release of tension that started at the base of his neck and carried in his shoulders. It helped only so much. He wasn’t like Bruce when it came to deep breathing and that meditation stuff.

He opened his freezer and pulled out an ice compact he kept for occasions such as these ones. He set it delicately on his sore cheek, wincing only a little bit at the frigid chill. The numbness feeling was greatly welcomed.

All Dick wanted to do was sleep—was that _really_ too much to ask?

He fumbled around in the first aid kit, looking for gauze and bandages. Laughing lightly when he found a Bugs Bunny Band-Aid amongst the serious looking medical supplies.  

“I’m not even mad about the cut, but my suit—now _that’s_ a different story. Alfred is going to be _so mad_ —this is literally the third one in a month.”

You would think, with how often this seemed too happened to him, Dick would’ve been used to occasional cut in his suit. Tears and rips happened at least once a month, and sometimes more than that if he was unfortunate enough.

He’d asked Tim once if the same thing had ever happened to him, but Tim had just looked at him for the longest of moments before loudly snorting and saying something under his breath Dick couldn’t quite catch, but the sole, singular word of ‘cat-suit’ he’d managed to pick up made his ears burn.

C’mon, the suit wasn’t _that_ tight…

Another voice pierced through the once thought solitary silence then, “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Maybe add a few more here and there, who knows…?”

Dick startled at the familiar, lazy drawl of a voice that he hadn’t heard for over three weeks. Jason was in his apartment, sitting lazily on his couch a few feet away with his combat boots resting comfortably on the coffee table. The dark silhouette of him would’ve put fear in anyone’s heart, but Dick only felt slight unease at the sight of him.

His feet shifted uncomfortably.

How long had Jason been there? How exhausted was Dick _really_ if he hadn’t sensed him? What was he doing here after so long? What did he want?

Those questions and more whirled through Dick’s head as he blinked dumbly, throat suddenly paper dry and getting drier.

“What are you doing here Jason?” Dick croaked weakly, the cut at his side monetarily forgotten because Jason was rising then, drawing up to his full height and walking towards Dick with a leisure, cocky stride that Dick found just as hypnotizing as a girl’s skirt swaying with the sensuous swing of her hips.

Jason frowned as he stepped closer, “What the hell happened to you?” He looked at Dick up and down, or tried too. The apartment was dark and the finer details blurred into the shadows, which was fine with Dick.

Jason, however wasn’t fond of not being able to see. He scoffed, “You know, despite popular belief we’re not actually bats. I can’t see shit, Dickie.”

Jason made as if to flip on the light switch and Dick caught him with a fluttery arm motion. He wanted to tell Jason to keep the lights off, that he didn’t want to be assaulted with the harsh fluorescents, and he didn’t want to see Jason in clear, stark view. The possibility of him doing something stupid was so much higher then.

The dark was a comfortable, familiar place and shining a light on the both of them was just something Dick didn’t want to do when he felt so vulnerable and weak.

His hand was hovering over Jason’s arm, close enough to feel his heat. “No, Jason just…keep them off, okay?”

Dick didn’t know how Jason managed to make a noise that sounded both confused and aggravated, but he did, opening his mouth to protest until Dick interrupted him.

He held his hands up in a placating gesture, “It’s fine—I have a shallow cut, it’s nothing to worry about. I can see just fine to bandage it up.”

Dick went about his previous business before Jason had scared the living daylights out of him, sanitizing the cut and trying not to show how much the sting made his teeth clench in pain. Dick didn’t dare move his gaze back in Jason’s direction, he wasn’t emotionally or mentally prepared to deal with him tonight and that was dangerous position to be in.

Huffing like a child denied their favorite toy, Jason leaned against the kitchen counter, loosely crossing his arms over his chest, “You smell like shit.” Jason said plainly and Dick could almost imagine how his lip pulled up in a semi-sneer of distaste.

Dick’s mouth thinned, “I’m aware.” He angled his head up slightly, peeking through the fringe of his bangs at Jason with a displeased glare. He didn’t truly feel it however, and the heat in his eyes eventually dissipated when Jason continued to stare down at him with a thoughtful expression, surprising Dick when he did not say anything snarky in return.

Nervously clearing his throat, Dick refocused all of his attention back on cleaning the cut. His hands suddenly felt very shaky, skin tingly and tight, and it was from Jason watching him so closely and not saying anything. You think he would’ve gotten used to it, Jason’s eyes on him, and in a way they always had been, even before this _thing_ between them started. Even back then, Jason’s stares had never bothered him as much as they did now. It was frustrating and nerve-wracking all at the same time and Dick wished he knew how to stop his reactions from giving himself way.

“What?” He finally snapped, feeling dubious in his own skin, as if it didn’t belong to him.

Jason’s head tilted to the side, mouth thinning at the outburst.

“You sure you’re alright?” Jason asked skeptically, shifting on his feet like he was debating stepping closer, but at the last minute thought against it.

Dick gaped, having just watched Jason’s internal struggle—about _him_. He laughed shakily then, easing his weight against the counter and raking his hair out of his eyes with his gloved fingers. He realized belatedly that he was still wearing his mask and pinched at the bridge of his nose, pulling until the adhesive gave way. He did the same with his gloves, throwing them into the newly cleaned sink and Dick was hyper aware of Jason’s gaze as he did all this.

He smiled warily, “Yeah, I’m sure. Just exhausted and gross and in desperate need of a hot shower. How are you?” Dick asked friendly enough, but Jason just frowned.

“Don’t be a dick, _Dick_.”

Dick scoffed, “I was being sincere, you ass. It’s been three weeks. I can’t be curious?”

Jason looked guilty then, moving his gaze away to the side.

“Well I’m here right now, aren’t I?” Jason said with a hint of irritation shining through his tone.

Dick sighed, running a hand down his face, “Yeah about that—when I said we should talk I meant like, _daylight_ , maybe in a park, and lunch. Not at two in the morning after I’ve finished patrol and don’t have the mental capability of dealing with you.”

Dick regretted the words as soon as he said them.

Jason flinched, his whole body jerking mildly. It was a small, barely there mirco-expression Jason had back under his control in less than a second, but still, Dick knew he had just hit Jason in a very personal way even if he hadn’t truly meant it.

It went unsaid, but it was known by all that Jason was still dealing with the mental repercussions of the Lazarus pit, and in some way, he always would. He’d hinted to Dick on enough occasions how hard the effects were on him—the anger and hate the pit fed off of and spurred, like stoking an already enraged fire. It was an incredibly touchy subject for Jason and Dick had just gone and basically punched a hole through the core of his problems and deep insecurities.

It was quiet for a moment, so quite you could hear the various sounds the city only made at night, which most over looked. Jason cocked his head in a rather dreadful way, and Dick was thankful he couldn’t see Jason’s eyes from behind his mask because he was pretty sure he would’ve already dropped dead.

Dick hanged his head shamefully, “Jason, that’s not—”

“You don’t have the mental fucking capability of dealing with _me_?” Jason ground out, like rocks forcibly being smashed together and Dick winced. The anger in his voice was an undercurrent of fire and brimstone under a supposedly steady structure, ready to give way at any moment. “That’s fucking _rich_ coming from you.”

Before he knew it, Dick’s feet were quickly following Jason’s retreating figure, apology after apology falling off his lips like bronze leaves falling off the trees during Autumn.

God, they always did this. Why did they always do this?

Dick was faster than Jason to the window and he blocked it with this body, grunting when Jason slammed into him. For the first time, Dick could see Jason’s face clearly, the amber orange lights from outside accentuated his handsome features, along with the hurt masked as aggravation.

“Jason _please_ , I’m sorry, don’t go. That was a dumb thing to say and I’m so sorry.” Dick pleaded, hoping Jason saw that he really was genuinely sorry for saying such an insensitive thing. Jason always made fun of him for how honest and eager his eyes were, how expressive they got when he was excited about something, or hurt. Dick hoped Jason could see them clearly now.

The snarl on Jason’s face subsided somewhat and his death grip on Dick’s biceps loosened a bit. Jason leaned in close then, his breath hot against Dick’s face as it rushed out in a way that was recognizable and incredibly familiar—one of Bruce’s ‘calm breathing’ techniques. Jason had always been better at utilizing them then Dick had.

Jason shook his head slowly, eyes bright and utterly conflicted, Dick could see the war waging inside those bluish-green depths. “I don’t know why I— _god_ , I should just push you out this window. You can be such an asshole sometimes.”

Dumb or daring, Dick didn’t know, but he cared enough to clutch at the lapels Jason’s jacket, and pulled him closer until their chests touched—anything to keep him close. Dick wouldn’t be able to handle it if Jason ran away again.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Just please don’t go, don’t let this be the last time I see you for another three weeks, Jason. I can’t do it.”

Dick said it without any shame, without any thought or recourse of what Jason might say or think about him.

It was true, so unbelievable true that Dick missed Jason with such a severe ache inside his chest every time they parted on less than ideal terms. Jason looked absolutely stunned for a short moment, eyebrows high on his forehead, mouth parting on a quiet gasp of a thing. He looked unsure, yet hesitantly hopeful, and Dick gently cupped his face with calloused, hardworking hands, thumbs brushing reassuringly over his cheekbones, telling Jason that he was here, and that he was with _him_.

Dick felt Jason’s breath hitch when he’d done that. His heart beat wildly inside the cavity of his chest, feeling as if it’d sprout wings and take off and fly at any moment.

“You say things like that and I…” Jason mutter throatily, body easing out of its defensive stance as his fingers circled Dick’s wrists. Dick thought he might mean to remove his hands, but Jason kept them there, steady and solid, like he just needed to prove to himself that Dick was actually here with him, and not some figment of his imagination.

Dick’s heart _ached_ for him.

“And I mean it,” Dick whispered, clutching at Jason’s face and bringing him closer.

“I mean it so much Jason. You don’t know how much it—just stay with me tonight. Be _with me_ tonight, we can talk in the morning. I just want you here.”

He felt his heart hammering now, pulse pounding loudly inside his ears. They were rarely ever this open with one another, this desperate and soft, and it terrified Dick how vulnerable such honestly made him feel, how he knew it would utterly destroy him if Jason didn’t take him up on his offer and instead told him to go fuck himself, which he rightfully could.

Dick saw Jason swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing as he shakily nodded his head.

“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll stay.”

Dick blinked, “You will?”

Jason seemed to gain some of his confidence back at Dick’s own bewildered expression. Jason snorted, grinning a grin that was both smug and fond. Jason’s favorite pastime seemed to be trying to one-up Dick, taking delight in throwing him off course or knocking him off it all together, and Dick supposed it was no different in this kind of situation.

And while it was no secret that Jason was good looking, in these moments when he allowed himself to be vulnerable with Dick, allowed for the tough guy, devil-may-care exterior to weaken, he was absolutely stunning. Dick couldn’t look away, didn’t want too. He gulped heavily, a lump the size of a golf ball stuck in his throat.

Jason brushed Dick’s hair back from his face, tucking it behind his ear and tracing the shell of Dick’s ear with his thumb before it all went back into messy disarray.

“Yeah Dickie, but only if you take a shower. You really do stink, honestly, it’s burning my nose hairs.”

Laughing rather loudly at the unexpected reply, Dick punched Jason lightly on his arm. He huffed amused, putting his hands firmly on his hips, only mildly offended.

“Well it’s not like _you’re_ any better,” Dick pouted childishly. “You smell like sweat, smoke, and gun powder.”

What Dick didn’t tell him, and never would, was that he liked it. He could feel his body responding to it despite how tired he was. Honestly, it was kind of embarrassing.

Jason only looked on with an indulgent mirthful expression, coolly shrugging his shoulders. “The ladies find it sexy.”

Dick arched a brow. “What ladies?”

Jason smirked, “Only the badass ones that try and kick my ass—and one flexible, acrobatic blue eyed looker who pretends they don’t like how I smell.”

Dick clicked his teeth, “I’m no lady.”

Jason’s eyes twinkled mischievously and his hands ran along the flare of Dick’s hips, fingers spreading. “Oh, I know,” Jason murmured silkily, his hips pushing up against Dick’s teasingly. Nothing obviously blatant, but enough to get his point across.

He looked extremely pleased with himself, licking slowly at his lips, “I know _very_ much.”

Dick couldn’t help but chuckle, grinning smug and leaning into Jason’s touch as he caught his lips in a kiss that blew his mind and lingered after it was done. His whole body tingled in that telling way only Jason could inspire, and the feeling was welcome despite how strange, foreign and scary it was.

“As long as you know…” Dick whispered invitingly on Jason’s lips, giving him a series of quick, sinful kisses that were both sweet and made him ache for more. His body wasn’t having it though—anything athletic would have to wait until tomorrow when he was finally well rested.

Kissing at the corner of his mouth, Jason said, “Seriously though, go hop in the shower.” He gestured with a nudge of his chin towards Dick’s bathroom.

Dick smiled, tugging at Jason’s arm. “Join me?”

“Well shit Dickie, how can I resist an offer like _that_? Lead the way Golden Boy.”

The shower they shared wasn’t sexy in the slightest—though that didn’t mean their eyes didn’t linger over chiseled chests and long, defined legs, sharing coy, flirtatious looks that held promise after promise for the morning coming. They washed briskly, laughing all the while because Dick’s shower was way too small for guys their size. They bumped more than their shoulders and Jason had to lean down a bit to rinse his hair.

“Remember that time when we tried to have sex in here and like, you fell and almost busted your head open?”

Dick snorted loudly, eyes rising, amused, as he watched Jason through the fall of his lashes, the water weighing them down.

It had been during one of the hotter days of summer, where Dick and Jason thought they solve two problems with one simple solution. Horny and hot? Fuck in the shower—simple enough, right? Only problem was their sex was naturally athletic and vigorous, and back and forth motion in a slippery shower with only a flimsy bar and curtain for support made the task of getting off way more dangerous than it rightly should’ve been.

“You couldn’t stop laughing so we had to stop. I was so mad at you.” Dick reminisced fondly, switching places with Jason under the shower head. Jason wrapped strong arms around him, avoiding the cut on his side and Dick leaned into his embrace, utterly content.

Jason placed a quick kiss at his cheek, “Wasn’t all that bad though, I let you come on my tongue after,” Jason breathed invitingly on the lobe of his ear and a twinge of arousal shot through Dick, but not much else, he was too tired. He hummed thoughtfully, a small, lecherous smile gracing his features at the memory. It was a _very_ good one.

“Best apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Jason chuckled lowly, tucking his head in between the crook of Dick’s neck and shoulder. “Damn right.”

The only clean pajama pants Dick had in his repertoire were his blue Superman ones with the logo repeatedly printed all over the cotton fabric. Jason gave Dick a disbelieving, flat look as the other man handed them to him, but didn’t complain as he stepped into them, testing the waistband and snapping it against his waist approvingly with a short nod of his head. Dick settled for black boxer briefs.

“Come on, let’s get that wrapped up before you hit the sheets and clock out.” Jason said, a roll of gauze already in his grip and he tossed it high in the air once before he caught it easily. He gestured for Dick to stand in front of him and spread his arms and when he did, Jason started unrolling the gauze and positioning it against the beginnings of the cut with a look of heavy, focused concentration. Dick watched him attentively with lowered lids, incredibly charmed and feeling especially taken care of in a way that made him as buoyant as a ship in a bottle.

He smiled, slow and sweet, and he was speaking before he consciously knew it.

“You take such good care of me, Jay.”

Jason’s eyes flickered up to his in surprise before quickly lowering again. He looked conflicted, corner of his mouth dipping.

His mouth moved wordlessly before he managed to say, “I’ve caused a few share of these myself, or did you forget?” Jason said it quietly, running a careful thumb over one of Dick’s many scars. Dick frowned, raising his hand and running it along Jason’s arm where he knew a long straight line of scar tissue would be. He felt Jason shiver knowingly.

“The same could be said for me.”

Jason clicked his teeth, eyes glinting harshly, “It’s not the same though. I was just being stupid—I broke my own goddamn arm.” The time Jason was talking about was when Dick had him in a firm hold and the only way Jason could break out of it was if he broke his own arm.

The crunch had been a horrible, breath stopping sound that had followed Dick into his dreams about going too far and crossing clear-cut lines he was never meant to by oath. The dreams tortured him with images and sounds of Jason until he eventually sprang awake drenched in sweat, heart rattling wildly inside his chest as if the muscle was about to explode.

He didn’t like thinking about it—the period of time when Jason had just come back, angry, resentful and so very bitter. They had _truly_ hated each other at one point. Dick didn’t really know when that had begun to change, and he suspected if he asked Jason, he wouldn’t know either.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Jay.” Dick soothed and something about the night, how quiet and singular it was made Dick feel brave.

He took Jason’s hand in his, squeezing deathly tight. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could make me stop— _nothing_ could make me stop loving you.”

The hand that remained on his torso froze in a jerk, and the sharp intake of breath Jason took was audible throughout the whole room.

And there it was in plain sight—Dick’s truth. He wouldn’t take it back, wouldn’t apologize for it—he’d own up to it and deal with the consequences when they came, but he was done denying and hiding.

He _loved_ Jason Todd.

Loved him so much that it physically hurt and Jason deserved to know that at least one person loved him, even if the younger man believed the complete opposite.

Jason’s eyes were impossibly bright and shiny, his mouth parted in a mix of both befuddlement and shock, like he never thought Dick would ever admit to loving him or that he truly could.

Broad hands found Dick’s face, cradling both his cheeks as Jason tilted his head up and kissed him, kissed him with everything he had heart and soul, and Dick whimpered into it. 

When they parted, they didn’t move far. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, they rested on each other and breathed for each other, eyes closed because everything was overwhelming—everything was on _fire_ and there was no stopping it, not anymore.

Jason’s lips nudged at his, his breath coming fast, “Tell me you know it’s the same. _Please_ , tell me you know. Ever since I was fourteen it’s always been the same.”

It didn’t matter to Dick that Jason couldn’t say it, he understood why Jason couldn’t and that was okay because he felt it, right here and now—he’d never felt a love as strong and intense as this one coming from Jason.

If Jason couldn’t say it, that was fine. Dick would just say it for the both of them until Jason was ready.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long delay. this chapter now makes this story explicit.
> 
> enjoy the porn pervs~

Restful nights were a luxury Dick wasn’t too used to when it came to satisfying sleep.

He always managed to find it some way or another of course. Thankfully not an insomniac like Bruce or Tim, who only needed two hours at most to function on a full tank. However, the last time Dick had actually woke feeling excited or welcoming towards an up and coming new day had dwindled greatly over the past few years.

It wasn’t because he was sad or depressed, not really. Dick just sometimes felt he was missing something altogether in his life that he couldn’t properly explain with just words alone. It was something he tried but couldn’t find in dating Koriandr and something Dick thought he had with Barbara when he believed he’d marry his childhood crush and live that perfect happily ever after.

So when Dick woke to soft kisses tracing the curve of his shoulder, and the solid, intimate press of a warm and familiar body behind him, molding against his shape, Dick guessed he had finally found what _that_ something was.

Dick groaned groggily into his pillow, not minding the light that assaulted his eyes when he blinked them open and turned his head, witnessing Jason, lazily lounging on Dick’s bed like he’d been awake for hours just watching Dick sleep, and that did funny little things to his heart for so early in the morning.

Jason’s expression was soft and unguarded as it came as peered down at Dick, perched up on his elbow and blinking slowly, lashes brushing his cheeks. Jason watched fondly as Dick rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned on his back so he was facing Jason instead of away.

They studied each other for a prolonged moment, quietly reveling in what they had revealed about their feelings for one another last night and how it would change things, good and bad.

Despite how relieved he felt, Dick knew they would eventually have to talk about what this exactly meant for them and their relationship proceeding forward when reality kicked in, reminding both Dick and Jason that they were on the opposite sides of the law despite often sharing a bed.

Dick wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking that just because they’d gotten over this particular speedbump, that there wasn’t more hardship to be had. No matter how much Dick wished it to be true, Jason wasn’t going to change for him. Jason’s ideologies and beliefs about justice and crime were as strong and devote as Bruce’s. Dick wondered, when it came to it, would he be strong enough to stop Jason when he would need to. Selfishly, a part of himself didn’t care, especially when he finally had _this_.

 _Let Jason do the work Bruce cannot_ , _Gotham will be better for it_ , that sinister part of his mind said in the deep, dark parts of himself Dick tried often to ignore.

He ignored it now.

“You’re up early,” Dick yawned, rubbing at the side of his face and feeling the beginnings of five o’clock shadow grow into his face.

His whole body felt rejuvenated in a way it hadn’t in a very long time, and along with it came the undeniable sensation of a stiffy tucked snugly away inside his boxer briefs. The weight of it only became more apparent as Dick’s eyes roamed over Jason’s broad chest and muscled arms, all scared with silvery, pink lines that Dick had traced over thousands of times with his tongue and fingers. Even still, Dick was still awed by Jason’s scars, the urge to touch and map out every inch of his skin never truly leaving him no matter how many times he was allowed to touch.

Jason looked good in the early morning light—younger and less haunted by the weight of his experiences.  The hazy, atmospheric glow of the sun cutting through the blinds made Jason’s skin look incredibly inviting and velvety smooth. Before Dick knew what he was doing, he reached out and wrapped his arm around Jason’s waist, pulling both himself and Jason closer together until he could comfortably rest his head on Jason’s shoulder and snuggle into him with small, happy sounds.

Jason smelled like the man’s favorite pack of cigarettes and it was an odd, almost comforting smell despite how much Dick wished Jason would quit that particular bad habit. Dick inhaled Jason’s scent slowly and kissed lightly at the bullet shaped scar on his shoulder, eyes falling shut in utter content.

Jason chuckled at Dick’s clinginess, easing himself enough of a-ways away to where he could still see Dick’s face and brush his hair back with careful fingers.

He shook Dick lightly, “Hey, don’t fall asleep again.” Jason whispered, fingers combing through the thick of Dick’s hair, tenderly brushing out the tangles that had accumulated from his tossing and turning. “I wanna make the most of the morning and you falling asleep again kind of ruins my plans, Dickie.”

Dick perked up then, one eye cracking open, highly interested in whatever Jason’s ‘morning plans’ were and what they involved. His cock had an idea of what it was and jerked at the thought of spending the better part of the day in bed with Jason, rediscovering every part of his body, and having his rediscovered in return. Their lives where anything but normal, but they could devote a few hours towards pretending like they were.

Smiling slowly, Dick wiggled closer, his hand on Jason’s waist smoothed over his muscled back, basking in the feel of him and the mild, but noticeable shiver when Dick’s fingers traced up the bumps of his spine, deliberately brushing over each bony vertebra.

Dick wiggled his eyebrows lavishly, grinning, “Oh yeah? Morning plans? Please do tell— _believe me_ , I’m all ears.”

Jason snickered, the corner of his eyes crinkling, amused. “You always act like a horny fifteen-year-old ready to cream his pants first thing?”

Dick shrugged, “You haven’t see the shirtless man currently residing in my bed, so I’m not surprised you don’t understand.”

Jason shifted closer, his body incredibly lax and loose. There was an ease to Jason that Dick hadn’t seen in a very long time—if he’d ever truly saw it at all. He couldn’t help but blatantly stare, awed and bewildered that Jason was here with him and that he was actually staying. Dick’s breath deepened accordingly when Jason’s hand brushed down his side, his fingers feather light as they traced along smooth, warm skin, only interrupted by the coarse, silver skin of various scar tissue. Jason traced those too, reverent.

The corners of Jason’s mouth stretched, slow and sultry, and he looked extremely smug as he murmured, “Oh? He makes you hot, does he?” Jason’s eyes lidded and he whistled, low. “Lucky man.”

His hand pressed flat against Dick’s lower back, pushing Dick closer into Jason’s chest as their legs met and intertwined under the sheets.

Humming low in agreement, Dick’s fingers curved around Jason’s shoulder, allowing for him to have enough leverage to bring his body up so the side of his face pressed against Jason’s cheek, nuzzling against warm, prickly skin.

“I’d say I’m the lucky one,” Dick whispered near Jason’s ear, smiling at how the other man’s body knowingly shook, as if an undercurrent of electricity was under his very skin. “The things he does with his hands and mouth…” Dick made a soft, pleased noise. “God, I’d do just about _anything_ for that right about now…”

Dick felt more than heard the slow intake of air Jason gathered in his lungs as angled his head, so that they were face to face again, breath shallow and hot as they shared and basked in the tension forming between the both of them after so long. Jason licked his lips and Dick’s eyes flickered to the motion, watching the deliberate slow pass of Jason’s tongue as it wet his bottom lip, before his teeth tugged at the sensitive skin.

“Yeah?” Jason said, leaning in closer, eyes smoldering.

“Yeah,” Dick swallowed, snaking his hand up to rest at the nape of Jason’s neck as he met the younger man half way.

The smooth press of their lips felt like finally having that sip of water after surviving days out in the unforgiving desert. Dick moaned softly into it, fingers tangling in the short hairs of Jason’s nape. It was sweet and delicate, lips dragging over each other’s with the barest, softest of pressure as hands roamed without a clear destination.

This _,_ Dick thought, was what he had wanted for so long. It felt unbelievable that it was finally happening now—that it was free for him to have and take.

The heat and longing surged then, making Dick press his lips more firmly against Jason’s and angle his head so he could kiss him better with his newly spurred passion. Jason reacted accordingly, opening his mouth so his tongue could meet and thrust against Dick’s in a lazy roll. Jason pushed him on his back, anchoring Dick’s legs on either side of his hips, and Jason slid into the welcoming space between Dick’s legs, running his palms with fingers splayed along those thick, muscular thighs.

Jason’s hands paused as they reached the edge of the black boxer briefs, snapping the elastic teasingly with a smug grin. He bit at the corner of his own bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he lifted himself enough to stared down at Dick’s flushed face.

“God, how do you _always_ manage to look like some fucking Calvin Klein model?” Jason began. “Keep thinking about how any time now I’ll catch you looking average like the rest of us, but I’m beginning to think it just ain’t gonna happen Dickie.”

Blinking rather dumbly no doubt, Dick’s mouth parted, moving wordlessly before he smiled and cupped Jason’s cheeks in his hands to bring him back down. He kissed Jason with all the love he felt, along with the frustration and anger that naturally came with it. By the time it ended, both Jason and Dick were panting, flushed red all the way down to their shoulders, and Dick was rock hard, his underwear hiding absolutely nothing.

He flicked the tip of his tongue along Jason’s upper lip, fingering at the waistband of Jason’s barrowed pajama pants. Dick could see the thick outline of Jason through the thin fabric, making Dick’s own cock throb.

“Get naked,” Dick whispered hotly against Jason’s lips, a single hand straying and palming Jason’s cock if the other man needed any persuasion of getting bare.

“I wanna feel this,” Dick said, emphasizing his words with a sleek curve of his hand, cupping and fondling Jason’s balls, making the other man gasp shakily against his lips. Dick took a brave chance at saying his next words, pushing aside his own fears of rejection and abandonment. “I want you to show me how much you love me. Make me _feel_ it. Overwhelm me with it. _Don’t stop_.”

Dick slowly pulled away then, heart fluttering as his baby blues darted over Jason’s face and his breath caught because Jason was looking at him with the most open, honest, and hungry expression Dick had ever seen him make. He became enamored with that look, searing it into his brain to cherish and revisit fondly later on.

“Jason…” Dick said on an awed exhale, leaning back on the bed and dragging Jason down with him, needing to feel the hard weight of Jason pushing down against his body. Jason didn’t waste any time as he kissed Dick _hard_ , almost punishing with how he took control and angled Dick’s head this way and that while fucking his mouth with his skilled tongue.

Dick broke away with a rough gasp, clutching and raking his nails down over Jason’s shoulders as the other man pressed wet, open mouth sloppy kisses against the defined underside of his jaw. He moved along the raised tendons in Dick’s neck, biting and sucking marks Dick didn’t care to reprimand him for.

“God, you don’t even know…” Jason breathed roughly against his neck, the humid puff against his sensitive skin made the entirety of Dick’s body shutter, goosebumps forming over his flesh. There was only need, want and desperation in him now—the sky could be falling and it would take an army to pry Dick out of this bed with Jason so close and opening up to him in ways that Dick had only ever dreamed of.

The world didn’t exist outside of his bedroom. Nothing mattered besides Jason.

They both wiggled hurriedly out of their clothes, Jason making a pleased, low grunting noise when Dick’s cock sprang free, already flushed at the head and jutting out, desperate for touch. Jason impatiently kissed down Dick’s chest, over his abdomen until he was tracing the dip of Dick’s hips with his tongue. A broad, calloused hand tentatively brushed his cock and Jason’s finger was feather light as it etched over a profound vein.

Groaning, Dick spread his legs wide, anchoring his heels on the bed as he threw his head back and grabbed two different horizontal steel bars that made up his headboard, trying to prepare himself for that familiar wet heat.

He heard Jason chuckle, deep and breathy, as the younger man circled his cock and started stroking it lazily, his other hand running up the inside of Dick’s trembling thigh. Dick pushed his head forward, trying to see what Jason would do next and anticipate it, but the strain on his neck was too much.

“You know,” Jason began rather conversationally, like his mouth wasn’t centimeters from Dick’s cock—like his hand wasn’t squeezing and releasing in that way that drove Dick absolutely insane.

“Never in my life—well, _both_ lives if we’re being technical—would I have imagined that I would enjoy sucking cock as much as I fucking do.”

With that spine tingling confession, Jason licked up the side of Dick’s cock with the brunt of his tongue, the silky but coarse feel of the appendage making Dick rise on the balls of his feet, a loud, almost torturous moan leaving his mouth unbidden.

He vaguely wondered if the neighbors would start beating against the walls when they _really_ got into it. Dick’s last residency had even once call the cops on him because he’d been screaming so much.

The neighbors, a rather old, clueless couple thought Dick was being murdered. It had been awkward explaining to the men in blue that those screams hadn’t been ones of pain, but of extreme pleasure. Jason had been long gone before they even arrived, the taste of him still on Dick’s tongue.

Even now, Jason was always surprising him with how much he could make Dick _feel_. It had never been like that with another sexual partner before, never as intense or as vexing as it was with Jason.

Of course Dick in some way or form loved the people he slept with, but he always became… _discontented_ after a while. He waited for that to happen with Jason, almost begged for it to, because their relationship had been volatile and extremely unwise from the start, but years later and still, Dick didn’t feel that disheartened nagging in the pit of his gut when it came to Jason.

He was _it_.

Dick felt that truth in the marrow of his bones.

Jason tapped him on the side, “Not like you to get lost in your own head Dickie. Usually that’s my MO.”

Dick gasped softly as Jason’s words eased the fog clouding his brain.

Jason was right, it wasn’t like him, but sometimes he couldn’t help it—couldn’t help thinking about what would’ve happened if they’d been led astray, taking different paths that would’ve never led them to this one they were currently sharing.

Dick and Jason had most, if not all of their cards stacked against them since the beginning, and the thought of all that could’ve went wrong to where he didn’t have _this_ kind of killed Dick. It wasn’t something he liked to dwell on.

“What’re you thinking about that’s better than my mouth on your cock?”

Dick’s body shot up with a shout when Jason tongued the frenulum, rubbing feverishly over the incredibly sensitive skin before he engulfed the head, circling around the sensory glands and making Dick cry out and arch into that spine tingling pleasure that had his toes curling and breath halving.

“Nothing,” Dick managed to get out through clenched teeth. “ _God_ —nothing.”

The vibration of Jason’s pleased, throaty hum traveling down his rigid length made Dick’s head thrash against the pillow his head was cradled on. He couldn’t think properly when Jason’s mouth was on him, the younger man new every trick in the book to have him near delirious with pleasure, and Jason was always proud with how close he could get Dick to screaming if he put his mind to it. This time however Jason was content with taking it slow, allowing for Dick to truly feel the buildup and have him wanting it.

Jason’s head bobbed up and down leisurely, the flat of his tongue molding along the underside of his cock in such a way that had Dick’s breath hitching each time Jason moved up or down. Dick threw his head back and moaned, eyes fluttering closed as he relished in the too-good feeling of Jason’s mouth on him, incredibly hot and wet, and obviously loving it.

Dick smiled wide as he felt the caress of Jason’s hand ride the slow, easy roll of his hips, and placed his palm flat below Dick’s belly button, pressing down.

Biting his lip into his mouth, Dick grinned around the tug, relaxing into the sheets and spreading his limbs against the bed as he started babbling nonsense. He could never keep quiet when it felt this good.

“ _Jason_ —ah yeah—that’s _so_ good,” Dick breathed, groaning throatily a moment later at the way Jason suctioned his cheeks around him before releasing and circling his hand around the base, stroking in time with his mouth. The noises were absolutely obscene and positively turning Dick on.

Dick’s head thrashed as he tried to thrust his hips faster, “Yeah, yeah— _fuck_ —suck it—that’s good, you’re so good—”

Suddenly, the sensation of Jason’s mouth was gone. Dick whined as Jason left him with a loud wet pop, leaving Dick feeling impossibly cool as his cock ached, standing curved and heavy, leaking along his belly. Dick hissed between his teeth when Jason playfully nudged it with his nose, eyes gleaming darkly under the fall of his lashes.

Jason smiled, his lips swollen, red, and shiny wet with a mix of his own spit and Dick’s pre-come. The lewd, needy noise that left Jason’s mouth as he sloppily kissed at the sides of Dick’s cock made Dick burn from the inside out as he clutched desperately at the sheets.

Chuckling low, Jason made a vague gesture with his hand.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Jason began, easing off of Dick’s body. “Oh, and while you’re coherent enough, be a doll and grab the lube for me?”

The request didn’t comprehend for many seconds as Dick blinked at Jason, trying and failing to catch his breath—it was coming too fast. He rolled over with effort, purposely rutting his cock down into the bedding as he stretched for the drawer, opening it with a flourish that rattled the lamp and unsettled it before it eased back down on its legs with a _thump_.

Dick scrambled around blindly, feeling for the specific shape of the plastic bottle and practically shoved it in Jason’s face when he found it.

Wiggling his hips in anticipation, Dick slowly spread his legs, knees bending and presenting his ass in a way that he knew drove Jason wild. Dick turned his head and watched Jason with coy eyes as the younger man squeezed a generous amount of the clear liquid onto his hand and rubbed it between his fingers, warming the liquid.

Jason licked his lips, looking close to drooling.

Fingers pressed against Dick’s ass, wet and warm, as they brushed the lube the length of his crack. Dick arched into it and moaned into the pillow. Jason’s thumb screwed into his ass suddenly, hard and unforgiving, making Dick quake as he spread his legs as far as he could go for more.

Embarrassingly enough, the high keening noise when Jason teased his ass came from him. Dick was always a little self-conscious about how loud he got sometimes, irrationally afraid to annoy or embarrass his partner, but Jason had told him on more than once occasion that he liked Dick loud, that it turned him on—the vocalization of what he did to him.

Dick pressed back against that delicious pressure, eager for Jason to shove something inside and fuck him good and hard like he needed it.

“Jay,” Dick breathed, aching his back hard, trying his best to provoke Jason into doing what he wanted by visuals alone. Sometimes it worked, other times not so much, but it was worth a try.

Dick pushed back, presenting his ass shamelessly. “Jay, come on. Stick your fingers in and get me wet.”

Jason made a rough sound at that, barring down on Dick’s back and panting hard into his ear. Dick could feel his teeth, no doubt parted in a snarl, and that made him lean into it, hungry for the marks those teeth left.

Calloused hands smoothed down his sides, sliding over his back, towards his ass and Jason gave it a hard smack, flesh jiggling.

Dick jolted, gritting his teeth against a moan.

“Yeah? Golden boy wants to get fucked does he? Tell me how much you want this cock, babe.”

Dick’s breath hitched in excitement, moaning as Jason’s fingers finally pressed against his hole. He looked at Jason then, coyly turning his head and peering over the curve of his shoulder, biting at his lip.

“Yeah, I want it—want it so fucking much.”

He cried out as Jason shoved a finger in, grinding his face into the pillow because Jason penetrated him in such a way that always left Dick feeling completely overwhelmed at first, like his cells were splitting and tearing at a molecular level and Dick was just seconds way from collapsing in on himself.

“Hmmph,” Dick eagerly rocked back on Jason’s fingers, licking indulgently at his lips as Jason added another finger and started pivoting in and out of him, wet, filthy sounds bouncing back and forth off the white barren walls.

Jason was knuckle deep, working Dick over with a practiced expertise that told of years experimenting and gauging Dick’s reactions and tells as he did this to him in the past. Dick pushed back on those fingers eagerly, muscles in his thighs aching with how wide he was spread out.

Jason sucked in a breath, awed. It didn’t matter how many times he’d done exactly this, he was always left a bit stunned that Dick actually wanted this from him, that he was so eager to give it.

“God, look at you,” He began softly. “So fucking hungry for it…so beautiful like this.”

Dick whined as Jason rubbed insistently over his prostate, intent and unforgiving, making Dick quake all the way down to the tips of his toes as his cock jerked and leaked all over the sheets. He rode it, hips rutting, chasing after the building orgasm bubbling at the pit of his stomach.

“ _God_ —ah—Jason!”

Jason hummed, hand smoothing over his back. “Yeah, I’ve got you. Hold on baby. I’ve got you. I know what you need.”

The last thing Dick wanted was for those fingers to leave him—he felt incredibly empty without them—incredibly cold, but he patiently waited, hearing Jason pop the cap again, knowing he was spreading more slick onto his cock.

Dick sighed dreamily when Jason kissed up his back, hands enclosing around Dick’s hips as he pressed closely against his back, the heat and immenseness of him almost overwhelming to Dick who enjoyed being pinned down by Jason’s heavy weight, unable to move, unable to do anything but feel and take.

Nuzzling his nose along Dick’s neck, Jason kissed at his cheek, adoring and sweet while he maneuvered his hips, pushing along Dick’s plush ass.

“You good?” Jason asked suddenly serious, always was, no matter how much Dick was aching for it and begging he always asked. It made Dick’s heart swell—that consideration. No matter how many times they shared each other, Jason always made sure Dick was sure and comfortable.

Dick nodded his head eagerly, whining all the while, a noise he would refuse to admit he had made later on when Jason teased him for it. Dick could feel this hole twitching in anticipation, waiting for that wondrous intrusion.

Jason pressed along his back, kissing at his neck as he angled his cock between Dick’s cheeks, pushing in slow and delicate, almost at a glide. It was always overwhelming at first, how thick and big Jason was, Dick involuntarily clenched around him and he heard Jason hiss between his teeth.

Jason paused, caressing up and down Dick’s hips, over his back, giving him comfort and waiting until Dick relaxed enough to press forward again.

Dick slowly breathed in and out, stretching his arms above his head to grip onto the headboard as he pushed back and met Jason in the middle, all of Jason finally surrounded by Dick’s insides. Both moaned as they basked in the feeling, Jason grinding slowly into Dick’s body, getting him re-accustomed to the thickness and the stretch that came with it. Jason bowed down, hands settling on either side of Dick’s shoulders, breathing into his ear.

“You feel like a dream—each and every time, I swear.”

Dick grinned against the sheets, pleased and smug, preening.

“And _you_ always overwhelm me— _so big_ —”

Jason drew out then, making Dick’s breath hitch as he plunged back in _hard_ , shucking Dick up the bed with the force put behind it. Dick mewled, face pressing down into the bed as he raised his ass and took Jason’s borderline punishing fucking like he’d die without it.

God, it’d been too long.

It wasn’t meant to be sustainable, this pace. Dick’s moans were incoherent. He tried to tell Jason how much he had missed him and how much he loved him, but his tongue wouldn’t work properly, lolling on the inside of his cheek as he started drooling onto the white sheets. His body, Dick found, was the only way he could accurately communicate what he felt. With his hands tightly gasping the polished steel of the headboard, Dick eagerly fucked himself back on Jason’s cock, gasping and keening with how good it felt.

Jason growled, low, deep and animalistic, lighting a fire along Dick’s spine that has his cock leaking like it would never stop, not while that sound that came out of Jason’s mouth existed. Broad, calloused hands ran over Dick’s chest, playing with his nipples and prompting him up on his knees as his back molded to Jason’s wide chest. The angle change made Dick shout, biting at his bottom lip to quiet the sound, but it was a futile effort, especially when Jason was pounding into him, brushing his prostate with each thrust.

Jason’s hands found the inside of his trembling, muscled thighs, clawing over them as Dick continued to impale himself, moaning his appreciation to the ceiling.

“You feel so fucking good,” Jason whispered hotly on the underside of his raised jaw, nipping at the defined jut playfully, giving the skin a tug. Dick angled into it, wanting more of those bites as his mouth lolled open, his right hand coming off the headboard to entangle in Jason’s dark hair and pull him closer.

Jason chuckled, “You fucking love this don’t you? Can’t get enough of it.”

Dick moaned, “Jay.”

“Wanna feel you come around me. Wanna feel you lose it.”

Dick tried to laugh, tried to tell Jason it wouldn’t take much. He was there, so close to tumbling over the edge. So when Jason’s hand wrapped around his cock and his hips started thrusting like a piston into Dick’s body, he convulsed as pleasure and pain collided and mixed. His orgasm felt torn from him, like his body had done everything to keep it at bay until Jason ended up kicking down the doors and releasing whatever Dick had tried to hold back.

He felt Jason come right after, hips losing their rhythm, clutching at Dick like he was the only thing holding him together.

It was bliss.

They collapsed in a heap against the bed, sweaty and spent and despite it being so early in the morning, Dick was newly tired all over again.

Dick reached blindly for Jason, eyes already growing heavy. He was satisfied to know that Jason had been thinking the same, their bodies meeting in the middle, legs intertwining under the thin sheet as their chest pressed together.

Sleep came all too easily then.


End file.
